


Everything Moves

by zigzagoon_noises



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Break Up, Daddy Issues, Family Feels, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, fundy is an orphan
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-22
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:28:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28230906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zigzagoon_noises/pseuds/zigzagoon_noises
Summary: Set inside of the SMP world, Fundy's father has just recently blown up the country and died to Philza's blade. Trying to cope with being haunted by the ghost of Wilbur, Fundy appreciates the distractions provided by his close friend Dream. Things get complicated when feelings pile on top of feelings, and relationships battle to stay together.Inspired by and named after the song "Everything Moves" by Bronze Radio Return.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/Floris | Fundy, Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Floris | Fundy & Phil Watson, Floris | Fundy & Technoblade
Comments: 10
Kudos: 63





	1. The Price of Victory

The fireworks sounded loud over head, booming in the ears of victors and vibrating in their heaving chests. Bright colors flashed dimly in the daylight, but their message was still there.

They won. L'Manberg was theirs again.

Shouts of hurrays and cheers exploded from Fundy's comrades. High fives were being exchanged, embraces being felt. Bad lit another firework, squealing happily as the explosion rung out across their country. The excitement made Fundy's chest swell, and the corners of his mouth rise into a smile. 

His yellow eyes scanned the crowd of his peers, seeking out the celebratory expression of his father, grinning face unobscured by Wilbur's lack of armor. The soft smile faltered when Fundy couldn't find it. His ears drooped and he felt his tail brush the ground. Where was his dad?

A heavy hand came down on the back of his shining netherite, earning a quiet _oof_ to escape him. Fundy looked back, and was happy to see his uncle looking at him proudly through the mask of his prized boar. 

"He's here, don't worry." Though his voice was monotone, as Technoblade's often was, Fundy felt comforted by it. He turned and wrapped his arms around his uncle, ignoring the scraping sound of their armor clashing together. Though he was stiff at first, Techno slowly gave into the hug. His other arm came upwards, and interlocked behind Fundy. It was enough to be comforting, though it barely was a hug. It was loose and semi-reluctant, and he knew Techno wouldn't squeeze him for fear of hurting him.

Or, unbeknownst to the fox, it was because Technoblade's mind was elsewhere as he embraced his nephew. Through the hood of pigskin, the warrior's white eyes were trained on the mountain face. He held the smaller boy with anticipation.

And then the ground shook. But it wasn't a nice shake, like the fireworks provided. No it was stronger, angry, and came in sizzling repetition. Fundy could hear it from below the surface, and feel the quake in his paws.

Everyone else must have felt it too as the fireworks stopped and the cheering silenced. There was a scream as an explosion breeched the surface of the earth, sending dirt and debris everywhere.

Fundy pulled back from the hug as he felt bits of the explosion go _tink tink_ off his back, but Techno's arms locked him close to his chest. He could feel the muscles under the thick armor.

"Techno-" He protested, gently tapping the taller with his palm. 

"Stay."

A man of few words, Fundy thought with a huff. Another explosion went off behind him, and he clung to the grooves of the shimmering armor. Fundy felt Techno lean over him protectively, but there was no fear from him as debris bounced off his upheld shield. Techno's hand gently brushed the fur of Fundy's head as it held him against his shoulder. He screwed his eyes shut, listening to the panic and confusion unfold around him.

"WHAT'S HAPPENING?!" was Quackity's shout.

"L'MANBERG, NO!" Tommy cried as hours of hard work self destructed. Tubbo clinged to his hand.

Why's and where's flew around. The smells of burning wood and wool and grass filled the air. It made Fundy cough as Techno slowly released him.

"Wilbur!" His father's name echoed off the flaming remains. "There! Will's up there!"

"Will?" "Why's Phil up there?" The questions poured out and ran together.

Fundy spun around. The smoke stung his eyes, but he could see a crater in the mountain face. Two figures stood silhouetted until the darkness was blown away by a gun-powder laced breeze.

Wilbur was standing there, laughing a hysterical laugh that bounced off charring ruins. Philza, his grandfather, watched the smoke clear with a horrified expression. Wilbur spread his arms out wide.

"MY L'MANBERG, PHIL!" His cold, distant voice struck a fear into Fundy as it echoed. "MY UNFINISHED SYMPHONY, FOREVER UNFINISHED!" The rest of Wilbur's words died in the wind as he turned to face his father. He pulled his sword, pointing his other hand towards the crater in L'Manberg where his army had been celebrating. Philza cried something out as the sword was shoved into his hand.

And then Fundy's heart plummeted. The sword was driven straight through his father, his body falling forward onto Philza who caught him. The sword was pulled out and thrown over the edge of the crater.

Phil looked directly at Fundy as he hugged the bleeding corpse. He could understand, despite the distance, his grandfather's uttered "I'm sorry." 

Thoughts and emotions raced through Fundy's body and mind. Betrayal. Heartbreak. Why? Fear. Why, _why?_ He felt his chest heave, though no air reached his lungs. His head felt light, the world around him spinning. This didn't feel real. He didn't want it to be real.

Technoblade pulled him back into the hug he let Fundy escape from. There was a solemn strength in this hold, a comfort in the embrace as Fundy sobbed into his shoulder. The fox's breathing stuttered as he stammered distraught nothings to his uncle.

"I am so sorry," came his rumbling voice. "but this isn't over."

Fundy blinked smoky tears onto Techno's shoulder. "...What?"

"You need to run." The seriousness was sharp on Technoblade's tongue. "Run and hide. Now."

Fundy met Techno's eyes for a moment when he pulled away, then the warrior sighed and reached for his bag with both hands. In one, he retrieved black sand that seemed to silently scream as it sifted between his fingers. In the other hand, the cranium of a black skull emerged. 

His eyes went wide, his ears pinning backwards. "No..." Fundy's voice was barely a whisper.

"Run, boy. You don't have to see any more of this." 

Fundy took a step backwards, not wincing when he felt sharp debris press into his feet. Techno held his gaze as he moved away before looking over the now-blown-up L'Manberg. Fundy shook his head, tears stinging his eyes before he ran past his smiling uncle. 

His tail streamed out behind him as he ran, and kept running. Further, and further, and further he pushed. His paws were raw when he finally collapsed onto the grass, shaking and gasping and sobbing. His chest heaved quickly as he gripped at it, using his other hand to wipe his eyes and hold his ears against his head. It didn't do anything to muffle the screams of the Withers that were exploding his home. They were destroying the home he just fought for. He spilled blood for what was now a bunch of holes and destruction.

He curled into himself, letting the tremors of desperation for everything to be okay wash over him. The earth still moved underneath him. If it was just phantom-feelings of the explosions, or the shock waves from the Wither's exploding heads Fundy couldn't tell. He just wanted everything to be still, to be okay. 

Why couldn't Wilbur have just let things be okay?

Slowly the sounds of destruction subsided. The Withers were slain, and Technoblade was run out of the country. Fundy knew this because he saw him escaping. 

They locked eyes, but Fundy couldn't hold the gaze. He pulled his knees up to his chest, having finally calmed down enough to sit up. His brows pinched together, tears still slowly streaking down his fur as he looked away from his father's brother. 

He could hear Technoblade begin to say something, but the party that was chasing him away drowned him out. 

"Traitor!" They all shouted, voices trying to be heard over each other. Fundy covered his ears and closed his eyes, waiting for the ruckus to pass.

And it did. 

When Fundy opened his eyes again, there was green. Dream.

"Fundy," He greeted softly.

"Dream."

Dream sat down beside the fox. Fundy scooted away, remembering that just hours ago this man was sided with his enemy.

"L'Manberg's gone, isn't it?" His voice was quiet and shaky.

Dream shook his head. "Just a portion. Wilbur-" Fundy flinched. Dream cleared his throat. "The TNT couldn't get laid past the water. What the Withers destroyed can be fixed." He leaned back against the tree. "I think L'Manberg is going to be fine. Tubbo's in charge."

"Tubbo's a _child,_ " Fundy retorted. "My father was bad in the head when he elected Tubbo, because in the end he made him president of the rubble of a country."

There was a silence as words died on tongues.

"Fundy," Dream began after a while, "your father was very sick. I can see that now." The words that came from Dream were careful, tiptoeing around things that would upset his company. "I regret not being on his side for this war. On your side."

"What does it matter? We've won, but my father made sure that there was nothing left because it couldn't be his." Fundy laughed sharply. "And it's fucking funny, too, because it could have been! It could have been, because they tried to make him president again, and he said no. He-" Fundy wiped his eyes, and Dream gently rubbed his shaking back. It was strangely comforting. "He chose not to be president so he could blow it up. Blow my home up, Dream. It was my home."

"It _is_ your home, Fundy. It still is. It always will be."

Dream opened his arms. He was hesitant, but eventually Fundy scooted closer and hugged him tightly. Fundy wanted more than anything for something to feel okay, and feel safe. And being wrapped up in Dream's arms?

That felt okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit 12/22/20 - Changed Tommy's name to Tubbo because I rewatched the stream and realized my memory was off. Minor change! :)


	2. Catching Up

The walk back was long. It made Fundy realize just how far his panicked sprint had sent him, and how far away Technoblade was chased.

They hadn't made it to L'Manberg yet. The fox wasn't in any particular rush to get there, either. Fundy was, instead, appreciating the silence as he and Dream walked.

Fundy's arms were crossed against his chest in a self-hug. The armor was gone, tucked away safely in his inventory. His tail dragged behind him, collecting dirt and sticks that he'd pick out later. Dream was a few paces ahead, leading the way home as Fundy stared at the passing grasses in thought.

"You're uncharacteristically quiet, foxy," Dreams smooth voice said from up front, "something on your mind?"

Fundy laughed. "Beside my country getting blown up and my dad dying?" He shook his head. "And one of my uncles is a criminal, the other one is President." His lungs filled with air, then choppily escaped as sad chuckles left him. "Besides all that, no, not really."

"A lot of change going on in your life."

"You're telling me," He muttered. "I don't know what to do."

Dream paused in thoughtful silence. "Well, L'Manberg needs a new Towne Center," he informed," you could help rebuild that. We also need wanted posters for Techno, if you want."

"I'm not drawing up wanted posters for my uncle."

His shoulders shrugged. "I'm just spitballing." Dream slowly hummed a tune without a melody. It began quiet until it was loud. Useless noises from his throat into the air. The baseless music filled the silence with an empty cheerfulness. While it was nice, thoughts crawled through his mind like snakes, wrapping themselves around and implanting their teeth.

"Dream?" 

The humming stopped, and so did Dreams footsteps. "What's up?"

"Why-" Fundy clung to his dirty jacket. "Why didn't you come with me?"

Quiet created a rift in the few feet of distance between the pair. Dream's smiling mask stared blankly at him, pinprick eye spots drilling holes into his heart.

"I- I mean it's not important but.. What did he offer you to make you stay?" Fundy's voice strained with the question. His yellow eyes met the hateful grinning eyes of that stupid mask.

Dream swallowed and stuffed his hands into his hoodie pockets. "Can we not talk about this?"

Not the answer he wanted to hear. "No, no Dream please." Fundy's ears pinned back. "What was so great that you couldn't escape with me? You said that you would."

"I said a lot of things."

A pang of hurt clawed at his chest. "You don't mean that." Fundy's eyes narrowed. If he clutched at the sleeves of his jacket any harder he would probably begin to tear them. "What did Schlatt offer you, Dream? Please."

Fundy could see the rise and fall of Dream's chest as his sighed. No words were spoken as he turned and continued walking.

"Dream!" Fundy pleaded.

From his pocket Dream pulled an ender pearl. "I'll see you at L'Manberg, Fundy." 

No. "Dream, wait-" Fundy reached forward, but all that his hand met was dusty particles and thin, empty air. 

Alone again.

And again, his shoulders shook. "FUCK!" Fundy shouted, slamming his balled fist into a tree. Birds cried and fluttered away from the noise.

Everything was changing, too much and too fast. There were so many secrets and schemes that Fundy was trying to wrap his head around. But like clockwork, just as he barely comprehended the first mystery another was shoved in his face.

Fundy looked his fist as he registered the tingling pain. His knuckles were scraped and bleeding, bits of crushed bark poking out. The crimson gently mingled with the brown of his paw. He shook the pain away, making a mental note to bandage it later. For now, he brushed the bark away and the injury was stuffed into his pocket. 

He raised his eyes to face the direction that Dream had teleported away. The direction home.

With a heavy hearted, shaky sigh, Fundy began the rest of his trek to the destruction of L'Manberg.

\-----

Everything was the way it was when he left, give a few more holes from the Wither strikes. The fires were also dead, leaving many buildings ashen and charred. The sight of his decimated country left an equally large pit in Fundy's stomach.

Philza was talking to Tommy and Tubbo, and the conversation died off as the fox approached. His eyes weren't met by any other gaze besides Philza's.

"Welcome back, Fundy." His voice was soft as he enveloped him in a hug. Fundy reluctantly patted Phil on the back with his uninjured hand. Welcome's and hi's also came from his uncles. "I was worried about you."

"We all were," the President added. "You ran off just in time. After you left, Tehcno-"

"I know." Fundy's voice was flat. Tubbo rubbed his neck awkwardly. The fox looked around the clearing, seeing Punz and Quackity slowly begin to hoist dark wooden beams to rebuild the Center. "What's gone down since I left? Besides the Withers."

"Towne Center is getting rebuilt, slowly," Tommy replied, following his gaze. "Uhh my brother became a wanted war criminal. Oh, and we're learning how to set up beacons now with the Nether stars." The younger vice president showed off his Nether star. It emitted a soft light in his hand until it was put away.

"It's been a.. weird few hours." Phil chuckled. "But what about you? What happened while you were gone?"

Air escaped through Fundy's nose in a exasperated sigh. "Thought about my dead dad. Saw Techno get chased away. Argued with Dream." He shrugged. "Y'know, that good stuff. Oh yeah, and I punched a tree."

Pulling out his other hand, his knuckles had slowly begun to scab over. Dried blood plastered the fur around his knuckles against his skin. The whole paw felt stiff and painful.

"Yikes." That was Tubbo.

His grandfather reached into his knapsack under his robe, retrieving a roll of white bandage. He carefully wrapped it around Fundy's hand, earning small curses of pain. "I'll fix it up better later."

"What was this fight with Dream about?" Tommy asked as Fundy thanked Phil. "He came back all sulky-like. Whatever you two talked about really pissed him off."

Fundy grunted as he flexed his hand inside of the wrappings. "Schlatt."

"A lot of anger from just talking about that drunkard," Tubbo laughed. Fundy rolled his eyes.

"It's understandable," Tommy muttered, an underlying hatred seething in his voice. Fundy recalled that Schlatt had ordered Tubbo killed by Technoblade for treason, and sympathized.

"Schlatt and allegiances. I asked him why he didn't change sides with me." A frown tugged at his mouth. "He just ran away from me."

"Well, if you wanna chase him down he's in th-" Phil's words trailed off.

"Phil?"

Phil made a quiet _shhh_ noise, pointing behind Fundy. _"Look."_

Fundy turned around, confused. He didn't know what he was supposed to be seeing until he saw it.

It was a pale figure, stumbling around like a toddler learning how to walk. It was wandering, looking at the rubble with confusion. It pained Fundy to recognize the yellow sweater, curly hair and black beanie.

"That's-"

Fundy cut Tubbo off. "My dad. That's my dad."


	3. An Arsonist's Rebirth

The group watched Wilbur wobble around, phasing through fallen logs and pieces of stone. 

"How is he _alive?"_ Tommy asked quietly.

Philza stared, and Fundy could feel his grandfather's heart beat faster. He reached for his hand and held it. Phil's voice, like his hand, was shaky. "He's not."

Tubbo gasped, tugging on Tommy's shirt. "A ghost? Do you think Schlatt came back as a ghost, too?"

Tommy shook his head. "I think we would've heard the drunk if he did."

"Weird..."

Fundy watched Wilbur get excited and happy when he collected lapis lazuli from a broken chest. "Blue!" came his echoed voice. It sent a chill down his spine and fluffed his tail. The sight of his father so oblivious to the destruction made Fundy angry.

Tommy poked him in the back. "You should go talk to him," he said, voice filled with curiosity. 

"...What?"

"Talk to your dad, Fundy," Tubbo repeated, "maybe he'll tell you why he did this." The president waved a hand around to the carnage of destroyed land.

Fundy stumbled and stuttered as he tried to come up with a reason not to talk to Wilbur other that he just did not want to face that issue at the moment. Too many mysteries at once. Too much to deal with.

Philza squeezed his grandchild's hand. "I'll go with you." 

He grinned weakly. His stomach felt sick as Phil led him by the hand to the ghostly figure of his father.

Wilbur was watching his hands move through each other with interest as they neared. He perked his head up when he heard the gravely earth beneath their feet.

"Phil, Fundy!" he cheered with the happiest smile Fundy had ever seen on anyone. Like he had never experienced anything sad a day in his life. Wilbur floated over, holding the lapis as the color stained his hands. "Here, have some blue, you two."

Fundy forced a smile as the lapis was handed to him. He stuffed the ore into his inventory. 

Philza's smile was a bit more convincing as he tucked the gift in his knapsack. "Thank you, Wilbur," he said with a slight bow.

"You know, it's the weirdest thing! This place looks like L'Manberg," Wilbur's voice was whimsical, "just much more.. blown up!"

Fundy cringed. "This.. this is L'Manberg."

Wilbur blinked. Then he laughed. "You're funny, Fundy! L'Manberg doesn't have so many holes!" He spun around without any sort of effort. "It does look quite similar though. What happened here?"

The living pair looked at each other. Fundy shrugged. Phil swallowed, his voice gentle. "Well.. Wilbur, you happened."

"Pardon?"

"You blew everything up," Fundy snapped. "All these holes in L'Manberg are your fault."

The soft smile didn't leave Wilbur's face. "I.. I don't think I understand. How could I have done this? I just got here."

His lip curled into a small snarl as he got dangerously close to Wilbur's face. "You don't even feel bad about it..."

Philza pulled Fundy away with a small laugh. "Down boy," he joked. Fundy didn't laugh. He looked back at Wilbur. "Will.. do you not remember?"

"Remember what?"

The rage continued to build in Fundy, and the flames of anger warmed his chest. "You don't remember ruining the country?"

"Fundy," his grandfather silenced, "let me." 

Wilbur's face held a softness. "No, no it's alright, Phil. I don't understand why Fundy's so angry but, but I'm not worried." He flapped a hand. "You know how emotional kids his age get."

_I'll show you emotional._

A growl escaped Fundy's throat, and his grandfather stepped in front of him to shield Wilbur from any sort of attack. Could he even attack Wilbur if he was a ghost? If he kept up this act they were gonna find out.

"What do you remember, Wilbur?"

Wilbur sat on the air, legs folded and crossed over one another. He hummed in thought. "Well, I remember.. a ravine. Victory!" He rocked back, floating along like an effortless backstroke. "And a big explosion. Was that what this was?" He looked around at the craters. "I-I also remember, very distinctly actually, you, Phil. I remember you killing me with my own sword." He looked at a frowning Philza. "Why'd you do that?"

"Because you ruined everything," Fundy repeated, tone harsh. Wilbur smiled sympathetically. That stupid smile burned itself into his mind. "You destroyed everything, and now you're pretending it never happened because you faced the consequences of your actions."

"Fundy-"

"No, Phil. He did. Can't you see that he's still playing his sick game?!" Fundy bared his sharp, white teeth. "He knows exactly what he did. He's doing this stupid 'I'm so innocent' act to fool us!"

The ghost of his father barely seemed to listen as he did summersaults in the air, having fun with his lack of gravity. "I can assure you, Fundy, I don't have the foggiest idea what you're talking about."

The pain returned to his hand as he clenched his fists, doing his hardest not to attack his father. "You're not even taking this seriously," he grumbled, letting the tension fall from his body. "Whatever."

Fundy turned his back on his father and grandfather. His tail whipped angrily behind him as he stalked away.

"Bye bye!" Wilbur mused with an upside down wave.

His angry expression earned comments from Tommy and Tubbo.

"I assume it didn't go well?" Tommy guessed, his arms crossed.

Fundy scoffed and rolled his eyes. "He doesn't remember a damn thing apparently. Phil is buying every word of it."

Tubbo raised a brow. "Do you not believe him?"

"I'm not a fool," Fundy grumbled, "I can see straight through him."

"Literally," laughed Tommy. Fundy glowered at the humor.

Tubbo shrugged his shoulders. "I dunno. If he says he doesn't remember, I think I believe him. What does he get from lying to you?"

"An escape from judgement and hate for destroying the country he gave to you?" Fundy looked wide-eyed at his uncles, like it should be just as obvious to them. "I mean come on. It's a pity act; everyone sympathizes with the ghost with dementia."

Tommy sucked air through his teeth. "I'm gonna side with Tubbo, Fundy. It seem like a stretch to assume Ghostbur suddenly came up with this whole plot to avoid judgement."

There was a silence.

Fundy cocked his head to the side. "..What did you just call him?"

Tommy blinked. "Ghostbur? You know, because he's Wilbur but a ghost." He touched the tips of his fingers together. "Add them together. Ghost Wilbur. Ghostbur."

More silence.

"Why are you both looking at me like I'm crazy?? It makes sense!"

Tubbo shook his head. "Anyway. I think Wilbur's telling the truth. I'll ask him about it later once he's had a chance to look everything over. Maybe it'll spark something."

"Or his act will slip," Fundy added. The brothers rolled their eyes. He sighed, promptly changing the subject. "Where did Phil say Dream was hiding?"

"Holy Land," Tubbo replied. "You going?"

"From one problem to another," Fundy joked dryly. "I'll see you two around."

They waved goodbye to one another before splitting off.

It didn't take long before the pearly white church came into view. Fundy could feel the relief wash over him that the holy building of Primes was left untouched by the violence.

The open entrance was welcoming as Fundy walked through it, removing his hat in respect. Dream was seated on the left hand side in the first pew. His hood, for once, was down and his mask was off. His head was bowed, forehead pressed against the balls of his fists.

His tail gently dusted the isle behind him, swaying as he walked until he stopped beside Dream.

"I didn't think you were religious," Fundy spoke. Dream didn't flinch, like he knew the fox was there without opening his eyes.

"I'm not, normally," he confessed. "But it's a good place to vent if you just want something to listen."

Fundy sat down beside Dream when he scooted over. His anger melted away as he settled beside his friend. "You could always talk to me, you know."

"You ask too many questions."

Fundy made a wincing noise. "You're so mean to me, Dreamy."

"You make it too easy, foxy," Dream laughed. It filled Fundy's heart to see Dream's smile. The freckles that dappled Dream's rosy cheeks were dim but visible in the torchlight. In the same light, a scar over the bridge of Dream's nose drew Fundy's attention.

With his bandaged right hand, the ginger turned Dream's face towards him. His green eyes dodged away before closing tightly. Dream's cheeks were dusted warmly red, and Fundy disregarded it as light from the torches and shroomlights. 

His thumb gently traced the scar from Dream's brow to just above his lip. "This is new," he observed quietly, yellow eyes watching for the moment that Dream's gaze met his.

Dream held Fundy's wrist like he wondered if he should move it away. If he should shut him out again. Instead Dream pushed Fundy's palm into his warm cheek, like he was using it as a rest for his head.

"I let my guard down," Dream mumbles, soft voice careful as he opened himself. "Just a scrap with Schlatt."

Fundy's brows came together in concern. "Schlatt did this?"

Dream smiled at his worry, his eyes opening enough to look at Fundy through his lashes. "It was a while ago."

"Does it still hurt?"

"Sometimes." Dream grinned jokingly. "Kissy it better for me, foxy. Right here." He tapped his nose with a finger.

It was a joke, and Fundy knew it was a joke. But before his head could control his actions, his bandaged paw pulled Dream's head closer.

And he gently pressed a kiss to the bridge of Dream's nose.


	4. Secrets

What. The fuck.

Fundy and Dream sat there for a moment, faces burning bright shades of vivid red. Neither moved, or breathed. Not until Fundy began blubbering apologies and trying to get out of the pew, stepping on his tail in the process. His paws gripped his hat as he tripped over his words.

"I'm so sorry, oh my god," Fundy sputtered, "I don't know why I just did that. Oh god."

Dream was laughing as Fundy backed away in embarrassed confusion. His bright smile hid his flustered expression underneath. "It's fine, Fundy," he said between wheezes, "I- I got the wittle kissy I asked for."

The fox wanted to laugh along with Dream, but his clenched jaw only allowed for a few painful chortles. 

The freckled man wiped away tears from his laughter, pulling a reluctant Fundy back into the pew by his sleeve. "Calm down, Fund," he mused, "it's literally fine. It was funny!" The fox settled back down on the pew with hesitation. "Funny-dy."

Fundy's lips curled into a smile. "Funny-dy," He echoed, exasperated, leaning back against the pew. "You're so weird."

"Says the one who gave me a little kiss-wiss," Dream giggled.

His eyes rolled. _"A kiss-wiss,"_ he breathed, sliding downward. The dirty jacket rode up his back as he slid. 

Dream went to take Fundy's filthy hat from his paws, presumably to make another joke, before he stopped. His eyes fell down on the bandage, which was a soft red. Fundy must have accidentally reopened the wounds when he was upset one of the many times today. "What's this?" Dream's voice was quizzical as he the poked the wrap.

"Ow." Fundy pulled his hand back at the poke. He looked at the gentle red that seemed to have seeped through the layers of bandage wrap. "You just noticed it?"

Dream scrunched his nose. "I don't stare at your hands."

Fundy deflated a little, remembering how often he'd watch Dream's hands. It was hard not to, when most of the conversation happened with them. Dream was very talkative with his hands, and would wave around them while he spoke. Other times Fundy just liked the way they looked, big and strong. 

"I punched a tree," the ginger sighed, "guess it started bleeding again at some point."

"Why did you punch a tree??"

Fundy hummed, thinking back to their dispute in the woods. "I don't remember."

Dream narrowed his eyes and pursed his lips. "Liar."

"Perhaps." Fundy balled his hand and tensed the fist. The spots of red blossomed out further, slowly, until he let go. Wounds were still open. He'd have Phil look at it again later.

The fox sat back up, the ridden-up jacket falling flush against his back once more. "But no, I just got upset. Needed to hit something that wasn't a person."

His answer didn't seem to satisfy Dream. "That's vague," he said, "there's a lot of things to be upset over today. What sparked that?" Dream waggled a finger at his hand.

"Now who's asking a lot of questions?" Fundy rolled his eyes before he finally caved. "It pissed me off when you left me in the woods. That's all."

He could hear Dream suck in air as he retracted his hand. "Yeah, I'm sorry about that."

"It hurt a lot. Everything about it hurt a lot. The you ignoring my question, the you leaving, and the me assaulting a tree."

Dream stared ahead, watching the alter. He gently chewed his bottom lip. Through the back window the pair could slowly see the sky growing darker as the day dragged on. Trees outside swayed softly with a gentle breeze that wafted it's away into the doorless church.

"Secrets."

Fundy looked away from the window. "What?"

"Schlatt gave me a bunch of secrets in this dumb book in exchange for protection."

He froze. Fundy felt his skin run icy cold but the anger sparked warm in his chest again. _"What?"_ the fox repeated louder, turning to face the warrior with an arm perched on the back of the pew. His brows furrowed together, trying to piece how that could have any sort of meaning to Dream. "You- you left me behind," Fundy's voice shook slightly, "for a book?"

Dream swallowed. "Fundy, i-"

"No," Fundy snapped. "It's always secrets. I'm so fucking tired of secrets." He pinched the bridge of his nose tightly, muttering a quiet _fucking hell_ under his breath. 

"It was a good deal at the time," Dream defended. "We were both still fighting for him when he gave me the book. It helped me make Wil-"

There was a silence. Fundy stared daggers into his friend.

"Made Wilbur what, Dream?"

The other boy tugged at the neck of his hoodie like he was warm. He was visibly uncomfortable about how he'd let his words slip. "The book had detailed notes about him," Dream began quietly, "about him and his uh. His mental health." 

Dream reached for his mask on his lap. Fundy knew he wanted it to cover his embarrassment, so he took it and set it down beside his hat on his right side. Dream looked helpless. "What about my dad's mental health?" Fundy pushed.

"It was deteriorating. You must of noticed it." Fundy had, but didn't announce that. "It... made him a good weapon since he was so easy to mold. He asked me for all the TNT he used. Schlatt suggested I give it to him."

"You helped my dad blow up L'Manberg."

A breath escaped Dream as he wringed his hands in his lap. "I just gave him what he asked for. Wilbur never told me how he was using it."

Fundy stared at Dream, but his face was turned away. 

Torchlight flickered in Dream's green eyes, bright with the lack of daylight. The sun had almost completely set, the sky a deep, dark blue. Orange-pink smeared dimly on the horizon. Fundy could see his own orange fur illuminated by the lights in the church.

"I- I really do regret it all, Fundy." Dream set his half-gloved hand on top of Fundy's. He didn't have the energy to move it. "I hated the thought of fighting against you. I went out of my way to-"

"Then _why_ ," Fundy pleaded, voice quiet and strained, "why did you not come with me? It was just a book."

"It wasn't that simple," Dream mumbled. Fundy felt Dream's hand curl into itself till it gently trembled.

"Why not?"

Dream turned to look at Fundy. "He threatened me with you. Schlatt said he'd-" He cringed and shook his head. "There was a long, detailed list of what happens to traitors."

Fundy tipped his head to the side. Gently, he asked, "You said you got into a fight with Schlatt. Was that what it was about?"

The warrior gently touched his scar. "He was drunk and yelling about me leaving." He waved his hand a little. "No specifics, but it got bad. Violent. Said if I tried to leave his side, he'd find you."

A pang of sympathy washed over the fox, gently dousing the flames of ire. "You had no choice."

"Never did," Dream huffed, sounding relieved to get it off of his chest. "I went through Hell with that man for you. I couldn't talk about it before because.." He crossed his arms, gently clinging to his green hoodie. "Because it's hard to think about."

Guilt for getting angry slowly screwed it's way into Fundy's belly as the conversation settled into silence.

"I'm sorry," Fundy whispered into the quiet. 

"For what?"

The ginger shrugged, his shoulders feeling heavy. "Not being there. For leaving without you." He felt his tail snake between his ankles. "I'm sorry for not noticing something was wrong."

Dream watched Fundy, and the fox gently squirmed under the gaze. "Can't expect you to notice everything," Dream sighed, closing his eyes. The words wrapped around and constricted Fundy's heart in a way that wasn't.. painful. They hurt just enough to make him feel weak.

"I'm just happy you're safe now. That L'Manberg is safe now."

An emptiness settled in the air, lacking a reply. Instead there was a gentle popping of torch fire as it flickered shadows on the walls. The statues lining the walls stared with empty eyes at the isle. The stars shined through the tinted glass of the church.

Dream mumbled, "Maybe L'Manberg will stay safe this time."


	5. Cleanse

The late night silence must have put Fundy to sleep because now, as he opened his eyes, there was sunlight streaming through the window. The statues in front of the alter were backlit with golden rays spilling over their shoulders. The fountain's water sparkled in the light.

When Fundy sat up to stretch, he paused to let a horrible, cramping pain in his back subside. The joys of sleeping on benches. He rolled his shoulders back, letting the tension slowly fall away while the soreness stayed. The physical relief that fell over him as he felt his back slowly, slowly crack and recover from his bad choice of napping places was lovely.

Looking down at himself, relaxing back against the pew, Fundy grimaced. The filthiness of his person was fully illuminated by the dawning sun. His tail was unkempt, ungroomed with dirt and leaves clinging to his fur from his run in the woods. His jacket was muddy. His hat, knocked to the floor in his sleep, was dirty and the golden badges along the rim were covered in a thin layer of filth. The bandage around his hand crunched with dried blood when Fundy closed it. A glance at the rushing fountain again, and entered the wonder of _is it disrespectful to bathe in a church fountain?_

Probably.

Fundy grabbed his hat from the floor, shaking the dirt off before placing it back on his head. He patted he knees and stood up. Someone ought to have a shower he could borrow.

The outside of the church greeted him with a growing hope. Buildings were being erected, slow as construction could be. But as he walked, Fundy could feel himself smile at the sight of the wound in L'Manberg slowly healing itself. Town Centre was a spruce platform now, elevated above the destruction with elongated logs that branched out for support. Fundy could see Tubbo speaking to Quackity and Niki, showing them some paper and pointing out directions. He assumed they were talking about building plans.

It felt good to see that the nation was going to be okay. And Fundy let himself feel good. He deserved it.

Down the path, Fundy wandered to where the TNT hadn't been able to touch. The water's edge was a safe haven away from the incisions into the earth.

Standing in front of his home was Tommy. Well, looking at it Fundy could never use the word "home" or "house" for it without it sounding weird. In all reality, Tommy's.. place was just a hollow mound of dirt filled with stone.

Tommy was rummaging through a chest just outside his doors when Fundy walked up.

"Morning, Tommy," Fundy greeted.

There was a donk as Tommy gently bounced his head off the lid of the chest. "Ow." He pulled back carrying many a miscellaneous item in his arms. "Fundy!" Tommy smiled at the fox briefly before shuffling through his held items. "How are you, man?"

"Better than yesterday, for sure."

"Right, right. That's great, glad the whole thing that went on isn't uh, hanging over you. Making you all sad 'n shit, eh?" Fundy nodded as Tommy glanced at him. "You're lookin' a little worse for wear, buddy. Got some dirt on your shoulder."

Fundy held his hands together as he smiled tightly. "Yeah, I know. I'm filthy." Even as he gently pat his jacket dirt came off in small clouds. "Do you have a shower of some sort? Mine was kind of-"

"Blown up?" Tommy finished with a raised brow. "I've got a shower, sure.

The ginger sighed in relief. "Thank you, Tommy."

"Don't mention it," the blonde dismissed, picking through his things again. "If you need something to wear while you wash your clothes, you can borrow some of mine for a sec. Don't run away with my drip, though, 'kay?"

Fundy snickered. "Wouldn't want to steal your signature style of the same red and white t-shirt everyday, would I?"

"Hey, I've got like fifty of the same shirt and it's the dream." Fundy rolled his eyes as Tommy laughed. "Anyway, I gotta help Tubbo build and whatnot. Talk to you later, yeah?"

"Yeah. Thank you again for the shower."

"No problem. Just don't go stinkin' up my house. See ya, Fundy!"

Fundy waved him off as Tommy ran away, held items almost falling from his arms. Then it was just him.

He turned to the door and pushed it open. The barren smooth stone on the inside felt everything but homey as Fundy walked through. There were loose socks and singular boots strewn about the floor, like Tommy had never heard of being organized.

In an open chest were Tommy's white t-shirts with red sleeves. Beside those were his blue jeans and shorts. Fundy was surprised at how neatly they were folded, then realized someone else probably did it. The clothes he picked up looked a little big, but they'd do.

Picking his way carefully along, Fundy finally found it. Sparing a brief glance at a sign that said something about poo, he smiled at the sight of the bath tub and shower head. He didn't humor the thought of how Tommy managed to put plumbing into his mound of dirt, but he did set the clean clothes on the toilet seat lid and began shucking off his jacket. He dropped the coat down to the floor, with his dirty hat on top of it. Everything else was piled on top. The bandage wrap was removed, being old and gross it was also thrown away.

He held his hand out until the water was warm enough to enter. The water made his fur feel heavy, but the warmth soothed the soreness of his back. He could feel with dirt and grime of yesterday lift and wash away slowly, the dirty water whirlpooling at the drain before spiraling down. The hot water stung his knuckles.

Soap, lather, rinse. Cleanse.

A push on the handle stopped the flow of water, leaving Fundy sopping wet. Closing his eyes, Fundy shook and shook and shook, spewing water from himself onto the wall and shower curtain. It felt lighter.

The shower curtain was pulled open and Fundy reached for a towel. He patted himself mostly dry before discarding it into a laundry bin. Fundy pulled the shorts up before buttoning them around his waist. The white shirt was pulled on shortly after. Spots of wetness bloomed slightly on the baggy fabric as it clung to his chest. That's fine, it'll dry.

Fundy collected his clothes and threw all but his hat into Tommy's washer. The hat he'd clean later. Plus, he had to polish the badges again. It was set on top of the machine. The washer beeped to life before it began to gently rumble.

The fox walked through his uncle's home, tidying here and there to at least make a walk way. He found an apple sitting alone, and picked it up. His belly growled, half-starved from not eating in the last.. long while. Fundy bit into it. Breakfast.

The apple was gone in minutes, the core tossed away in a bin. Fundy flopped down on Tommy's bed; the softness of the mattress was a stark contrast to the hardness of the pew he'd slept on. 

Fundy laid there, on a bed that wasn't his, wearing clothes that didn't belong to him, and eating food he didn't collect. It felt vaguely like borrowing a life. Which, in all honestly, wasn't a feeling Fundy was a stranger to.

The thought didn't linger long as he pushed it from his mind. Today was a good day. Things were getting built. And that thought reminded Fundy that he probably should help with that.

With a reluctant sigh, Fundy peeled himself away from the comfort of the red blankets and soft mattress and plush pillow. Back to the bathroom is where he found his shoes and socks, which he put back on. The washer wasn't done tumbling his clothes around, so he'd come back for them later. His hat also remained in the washroom.

The sun was up a little higher when Fundy shut the door behind him. The light was warm on his exposed arms and legs, and he didn't know if he liked it. He missed his jacket and long pants and hat.

Back down the pathway and into view came Towne Center. Everyone who was working last time was sitting, legs dangling off the platform, talking and enjoying lunch. They waved down to Fundy as he approached, and Tubbo pointed to a ladder up on a pillar of wood. Fundy hurried up to it, his tail hanging down as he scurried up the ladder until he climbed up to stand on the spruce wood.

"You stole my clothes!!" came Tommy's joking voice. They both knew he'd give them back.

Niki smiled at Fundy. "I like your new outfit."

He could feel himself grow warm from a soft embarrassment. "Thought I'd try something new," Fundy shrugged, looking around. He went to stick his paws into his pockets, but was left horribly dissatisfied why they passed over a pocketless t-shirt. He could hear Niki giggle. "I'm surprised how much has been built."

"We've been working hard!" Tubbo sounded proud as he leaned back to see Fundy. "Everyone has."

Fundy wondered if he was included in that everyone, considering all he'd done was run away, yell at his dad, and sleep. "Amazing job, Mr. President," he joked with a playful solute. Tubbo grinned as he laughed.

Tubbo dusted his hands, brushing bread crumbs from his fingertips, and stood up. "Well, if you'd like to help, Fundy," Tubbo glanced at him as he helped Tommy up. "I think we'll get back to it."

"Of course." Fundy watched everyone rise to their feet. The group consisted of Tubbo, Tommy, Niki, Philza, and Ponk. Quackity must have left sometime earlier. 

Phil walked over to Fundy instead of following Tubbo to a log that was laying down on the platform, waiting to be raised. "How's your hand, Fundy?"

The fox raised the paw to show off his scabbed knuckles. "It opens when I tense my hand, but other than that it's fine."

Phil noted that Fundy had taken to wrap off, and that the dried blood had been washed away. "Let me rewrap it, just in case," his grandfather suggested, "a lot of this stuff is dangerous."

"You act like I've never helped build something, Phil," Fundy sighed, even though he stayed still to let Phil wrap his hand again. "I'm a big kid now."

The winged man rolled his eyes at the humor, smiling softly. "You'll always be my little man," Phil said, rubbing the top of Fundy's head as he turned. Fundy followed behind him back Tubbo's way.

"-Tommy, I need help with this." Tubbo was struggling to pick up the end of the log. There was a rope tied to it, thick as it snaked around on the platform. Tommy joined his brother to lift the log. "Phil?"

"On it," was his grandfather's simple reply. His wings spread, and from behind Fundy could see so much damage to one of them. The feathers were tattered and torn, and in some spots there were bald, angry looking burn wounds on the wing. Before Fundy could ask if it was safe for Phil to fly, he was up in the air.

The wingbeats were stuttered, and it seemed like no one saw the way Phil faltered and cringed in pain as he grabbed the rope. Wrapping the rope in his hands, Phil beat his wings hard, moving backward, and Fundy could hear his effort.

Everyone joined in on pushing the log upward, Fundy included. Hands on top of hands pushed the wooden beam upward. Grunts of efforts came from everybody until the beam slid into place; a hole in the platform cut just for it. 

Phil fell from the sky, though no one noticed because he'd managed to save the landing last second and land safely on his feet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This just in: tommy is a messy boy so his dad does his laundry for him


	6. Torched

By their next break they'd managed to upstand a foundation for a home. Fundy was sitting on one of the beams, strong and thick as they were. His eyes were trained on the horizon.

It was good that Phil had rewrapped his hand. The amount of scraping and falling and smacking that was happening to his hand was insane, but the thicker bandage had kept the healing wound mostly safe.

The sun was hovering gently over the horizon, showing that hours had passed since he had begun helping. In those hours, though, they'd made some hefty progress. The grass on the sloping mountain face to Fundy's left was turning a softer green, and the blueish clouds overhead seemed to frame the whole picture perfectly.

"It's really pretty."

Fundy jumped, eyes wide as he spun himself around just in time to see his smiling father floating behind him. "You-" Fundy began, but was cut off by his need to scramble back onto the beam. 

Not that he made it, as he felt his claws scrape the wood in a last ditch effort to climb.

"Fundy!" The words whizzed past his ears. The fox curled into himself, waiting to smash through the platform and into the shallow water that pooled below. But it never came.

Instead, he felt someone else smash into him, the wind following them as their arms curled around Fundy. The breeze swirled through his fur as they continued to fall, and he could hear the steady wingbeats trying to slow them down.

 _Ouches_ and _oofs_ came from the pair as they rolled a few times over on the wood. It made Fundy dizzy as he raised his head. As his vision cleared, he could his grandfather panting beside him. Looking up, Wilbur had disappeared.

"Phil! Fundy!" Ponk was the first one over. The fox remembered him as Schlatt's doctor, and watched him reach gloved hands down to help Fundy up with hesitance. 

The fox staggered to his feet. Niki and Tubbo helped Philza up as Ponk quickly looked Fundy over. Satisfied, he moved away to check on Phil.

Instantly, Ponk was finding discrepancies. "Your wings, man!" Ponk announced, holding the feathered appendage out spread. Phil looked away, uncomfortable.

"I know."

"They're _charred!!_ " Ponk's voice only became more and more exasperated as he sifted through the feathers. "You've got burns here, and here, and here-"

"I know!" Phil shouted, pulling away. He turned around with his tattered wings spread wide. Everyone stopped, surprised that the older man had raised his voice. Phil blinked, and sighed. "I know, okay?"

Fundy could see Ponk's frown through his ski mask. "Phil, you shouldn't-"

"I'll be fine, Ponk." The wings folded in on themselves. "Thank you for announcing it to everyone here, but I'm fine."

There was a long silence. Ponk's shoulders fell in a disheartened way.

Tubbo clapped his hands together, forcing a cheery smile through the tension. "Why don't we stop for the night and pick this back up tomorrow?"

"That sounds good," Niki agreed. Tommy made a sound of approval.

"...Right," the doctor nodded hesitantly, "yeah, alright. I'll see you all tomorrow." 

Goodbye's were exchanged by the group as everyone split off. Tommy and Tubbo went one way, Fundy followed Phil another, and Niki and Ponk went their own ways.

Fundy was a few paces behind Phil, studying the blackened tips of his feathers, and the angry burns that scored across his wings. It looked painful.

"Where are we going?" Fundy asked. Philza stopped and turned, as if he hadn't realized that Fundy had been following him.

"Oh, uh," he hummed, "I dunno."

Fundy tipped his head. "Do you.. not have a place to stay while we're building the houses?"

Philza shook his head. Then thought about it, and shrugged. "I mean, I've got a tent a ways out that I set up last night. I don't think it's big enough for the both of us, though."

His ears drooped. "Oh."

"Why don't you ask Tommy? You have to give his clothes back anyway, right?"

"Right," Fundy echoed. He didn't want to push his grandfather and ask if he was okay, for fear of being on the receiving end of his anger. But he also didn't want to just leave him.

He could feel Phil watching him. The older man sighed before moving to sit down on a step. Fundy sat beside him when Phil patted the space.

"What's on your mind, Fund?"

Fundy looked at his knees, hating the way he could see them sprout past Tommy's cargo shorts. He swallowed the anxiety. "Phil, are you okay?"

"...What?" The fox repeated the question. "Fundy, I- yes, I'm fine." Phil smiled through his visible frustration. "Where is this coming from?"

"You've been acting weird since-"

"Since I killed my son?" Philza filled in. He glowered at the ground, brows pinched together. "I think I'm allowed to act a little weird after that."

Fundy nodded hastily. "Of course you are, Phil. You've just been a little..." He swallowed air nervously. "agitated, lately. I'm worried about you."

The winged man leaned forward, holding himself up with his arms crossed on his legs. "You don't have to be, Fundy."

The flatness of Phil's voice crept into his ears and bounced around in his head. It didn't sound convincing. "I think you're wrong." Fundy looked at his grandfather, but his gaze wasn't met. "Phil, you don't have to watch over everyone else and neglect yourself."

Phil laughed shallowly. "I'm not neglecting myself, Fundy, I promise. I'm just grieving." He rose up, shifting his wings behind him. "I'm going to go now. Goodnight, son."

"Night, Phil."

Philza walked up the steps. From behind, Fundy could hear his beating wings and grunts of painful effort until the sounds faded away.

Just Fundy now. Yet again.

He leaned back, feeling the corner of the next step press into his back. Fundy spread out his arms across the step. Yellow eyes looking upward, Fundy watched the sky turn pink, then orange, then slowly move on to a deeper, darker blue. 

Was everyone going to hide everything from him? Fundy didn't like the thought of so many secrets that he was unaware of.

Thoughts of worry swirled around Fundy's brain as he stood up. He didn't know where he was going, he just let his feet move and meander around. The lantern light overhead was the only thing he noticed that kept him from thinking he was sleepwalking.

He was pulled fully out of his thoughts by a familiar voice. Or maybe because the voice was loud and playful.

"George! C'mere!" Dream's voice rang out, a giggle hiding under the echo. Fundy could see Dream's bow bend back with stress, an arrow notched against the wood. George was scrambling in faux fear over buildings, his smile bright.

The arrow whizzed overhead, lodging itself in the building mere inches from George's face.

"Dream!" The blue man shouted, stumbling back till he fell on his rear. 

Dream's laugh brought a smile to Fundy's face. It lightened his mind to see his friend so happy. In another sense that he tried his best to ignore, it also left an empty feeling in his chest. Fundy couldn't place the reason why.

The fox reached into the cargo pants pocket, retrieving a small phone. He quickly fumbled with the brightness, squinting tightly at the flash of light. Satisfied when it darkened, Fundy opened his Whisper chat with Dream. There were a few unread messages from the night before.

_You fell asleep in the church.  
I went to George's house for the night.  
Sorry about fighting with you, I'll see u tomorrow._

The messages lifted Fundy's smile a little more. He spared a glance at the playing boys before typing a simple **_Goodnight Dream_** in response. A _swish_ sound came quietly from the speaker to signal that the message sent, then he quickly swiped off to his chat with Tommy.

Previous messages of nonsense appeared, the history moving upwards with the keyboard that showed itself. Quickly, Fundy's thumbs ran over the board before hitting send. _Swish._

_**Hey can i crash at your place?  
I also need my clothes back**_

There was a few seconds of waiting before the conversation pinged with a response.

_Ya ofc man  
Tubbos here too but we'll work it out  
put ur clothes in the dryer btw_

Fundy sighed, having completely forgot about that part of laundry. He was also surprised that Tommy had remembered.

_**Thank you tommy  
and if all else fails i can sleep in the tub lol** _

_I'll make a spot 4 u on the floor_

The simple answer marked the end of the text thread. Fundy clicked his phone off with a satisfied huff.

\-----

The flutter of the comforter flushed a breeze of air towards Fundy, ruffling his fur as it landed on the floor. Tommy threw down a pillow on top of it.

"Thank you again for letting me spend the night," Fundy said, tugging at the sleeves of his red pajamas, "and for the PJs."

Tommy fell back onto his bed, bouncing Tubbo gently beside him. "'Course, man. Not a problem at all."

Tubbo held his bee plush in his lap as he readjusted himself on the bed. His pajamas were green with white stripes. "Sorry about the floor thing, by the way," he said with a soft smile.

The ginger flapped a hand in dismissal. "It's fine! Better than outside." He settled himself on the makeshift bed made of piled blankets, tail curling to settle on his lap.

"For sure, for sure," Tommy agreed.

The group squabbled with senseless conversation for a while longer. Topics such as women, Prime, and building ideas surfaced through out. They had all payed careful attention to avoid any sort of mention of the recent political happenings. Hours of laughter later, Tommy finally turned out the lights and goodnights were exchanged.

Tubbo and Tommy shared the bed, while Fundy lay on the stone floor on layers of blankets. The brothers were snoring softly moments later.

But as the night dragged on, Fundy only found himself tossing and turning. He stared up at the ceiling, eyes blurred with tiredness but mind racing incomprehensively with restlessness.

_Ping!_

Beside him, Fundy's phone sounded quietly. Who the hell? He reached for the device, hiding it under his blanket to shield the room from the light. His bleary eyes could just barely read the 2:03 AM on his lock screen. Beneath the numbers was a Whisper notification from Dream.

Fundy turned the phone off, pulling the blanket off of his head. A glance through the dark at the snoring pair of brothers, and Fundy kicked off the rest of the comforter. He carefully picked his way down the steps till he saw the familiar bathroom again. The fox leaned against the wall as his screen lit the washroom with white light. He clicked on the notification.

_r u still up_

Dumb question, since Fundy's last message must have implied he was sleeping. But here he was, running brown thumbs over the keypad of his cell.

**_Ye, what's up_ **

_cant sleep  
wanna call?_

Fundy read the question with raised brows. Late night conversations with Dream weren't uncommon, but they had definitely become more sparse during the war. Not a good look to be having half-asleep conversations with the enemy. But of course, they weren't enemies now. They were friends again, and the thought of hearing Dream's voice again made Fundy's chest light. The pad of his thumb pressed the telephone icon on the top of his screen.

The line rang once, twice, then the hum stopped as the call was answered.

"Hey, foxy."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hc: the smp members all have phones. the chat is just a giant group chat and whispering is just dms <3  
> that also reasons out how they can talk even if they are rlly far away


End file.
